Lucid Nightmares
by wingsofseyfert12
Summary: A place of where no true happiness or joy exists. A mired living which one faction strives to enslave another for eternity. A cruel, barbaric reality that exists not in a movie or book but all around us. Inori lived blissfully in her own world apart from the true nature of this reality. She learned the hard way that her life was the exception, not the norm. Warning non-con.


Disclaimer: All rights to the name "Lucky Star" belong solely to Kagami Yoshimizu. I neither own this franchise nor do I profit from the writing of this story.

Author's Note: A pretty sick, twisted and plausible one-shot that I want to write. Non-con so you have been warned.

* * *

It all started when I was a first year over at Ryoo High School.

Before then I never had any fears regarding the safety of my own home. I knew that there I lived with my little sisters, my loving mother and stern father. It was not a perfect home. Sometimes Matsuri would get a too rough with little Kagami and the two would start to have a fight. Or Mom would sometimes be in a bad mood all day long and would never be able to make up her mind especially with chores.

Then again what family is perfect and free from problems? I loved my parents and little sisters with all my heart. I went to sleep every night feeling content and lucky that I grew up in an environment where I had a good relationship with my parents considering that I have friends that absolutely _hate_ their parents. My mother hardly ever got angry at me and I had a close relationship with my father.

Tadao Hiiragi.

A stern man grounded in his beliefs and faith. Then I used to think he was the prime example of what a man should be. No problem was ever beyond him and no threat too large for him to thwart. I can honestly say that the days my father was not in the house I felt terribly vulnerable and worrisome especially for my little sisters.

How I long to return to those days when I knew that I was totally safe in the sanctuary of my home. That I could sleep at night and not have to wonder whether any bad things would come stalking my room waiting for a chance to...

No!

The day I graduated from middle school herald my coming into adulthood. Unfortunately for me I was forced to become an adult far more quickly then I had wanted to be and truly learned the nature of this disgusting and horrible reality in which we are imprisoned in.

It all started with the silent click of my door opening.

I'm naturally a light sleeper. Anything will wake me up and no doubt I heard the sound of my door opening that night. I had thought that perhaps it was Tsukasa having a nightmare and wanted to sleep with someone though why she come seek me when she normally went to Kagami or our parents room.

I turned pretending to still be asleep and very lightly opened my eyes. The dark shadow entering the door way was far too large to be Tsukasa, who was only eight years of age. There was no way that that could be her.

My second thought went towards Matsuri but I instantly crushed it the moment I thought it. Matsuri was head strong and stubborn. Even if she did have a nightmare she would never come to me or our parents. She would simply go and sleep in the kotatsu downstairs to avoid being in her room.

Besides even though Matsuri had been going through a growth spurt lately I could tell that the shadow at the door was still too large.

Which left only three options; mom, dad or a total stranger.

The thought of a total stranger being in our home filled me with an intense fright. I felt my heart beating so loud I thought for sure that the intruder could hear it hammering away like a timpani on full throttle.

As the figure came closer I started to hold me breath and sank a little further in the covers of my bed. Would this stranger notice me if I hid a bit more? And if not what did he plan to do with me?Finally the stranger was close enough to where I could see a dim outline of his person through the small nightlight I had in my room.

I breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was not a total stranger but my father.

Already I could feel myself calming down immensely. My father was our rock, the foundation for this family. He alone made sure that we were well taken care of and happy. The sense of security he brought about with his person always made me feel calm even in the worst of days.

Now that the thought of a total stranger was out of the way I proceeded to think as to why he would come into my room for this night time visit. Perhaps he wanted to check on me and the rest of my siblings before going back to bed. Granted he had not done this for a couple of years now but it would not be out of the question.

However he continued to linger despite seeing that I was in my bed and not going anywhere. At once he placed a hand on my head and stroked my hair.

The feeling was comforting at first but it did also made me question my father's motives. If he simply wanted to check on me then he would have been contented with the sight of me and would have left. Maybe he wanted to perhaps spend time with me? I know that he is a busy man and is sometimes not always available but it was really late at night and I was sleepy. Couldn't this wait until tomorrow?

The moment that his hand left my head and soon descended to my sternum between my breasts did I start to become alarmed. Many thoughts were racing across my head most of which were ones trying to quell my ever rising panic.

I kept telling myself that he was simply checking on me. Maybe he thought I had a fever and is checking my temperature and heartbeat. Yes that had to be it!

Yet every passing moment seemed to contradict this train of thought. His hands moved far too...strangely for it to simply check my vital signs.

By now his other hand was on my lips gently stroking them too and fro. I clenched me teeth and forced myself to not utter a word. I was more than sure that he thought me asleep. Maybe if I continued to be still he would stop.

The rough caresses of his calloused fingers dried my lips and he seemed to know so as he soon withdrew them. For a moment I was relieved as the hand on my sternum had also removed itself. I was sure that whatever behavior my father was displaying was a one time occurrence. I would be sure to not bring it up.

I was frighteningly disappointed when the fingers returned to my lips again this time moist with what I can now tell was saliva.

I almost wanted to gag right then and there. Did my father actually do that? Did he place his fingers, which had just been on my lips, to his own and recuperated? Why...why that would be like I had kissed my father!

Not that I haven't kissed him before but in this setting I could not help but start feeling a growing sense of alarm and no amount of reasoning was making me feel better at this point. His fingers continued to caress my lips this time prying even deeper making their way inside my mouth.

The taste of his saliva stained fingers nearly caused my gag reflex to go crazy and it was through sheer force of will that I stopped myself. I still wanted my father to think I was still asleep. If I didn't move then maybe he would get bored of me and leave.

Apparently he took my pliant responses as his que to continue even further as he gained a sudden boldness and to my utter shock found his other hand lying directly on top of my left breast.

By now my eyes were definitely open. This was going too far and I had to put a stop to it.

"F-Father what are you-"

The sound of my voice seemed to alarm him as he suddenly clasped his hand tightly over my mouth before I could utter another word. He came down near my ear and whispered harshly:

"Not a word Inori!"

Never had I heard my father sound so harsh and menacing. I tried to struggle despite myself only to feel two of my arms being held up by his own as he gripped my wrists tightly...too tight. I was sure there were going to be bruises in the morning.

With his other hand he grabbed me harshly by the cheek and forced my face towards his.

He did not have to say anything. His eyes told me what he didn't need to say. I knew that if I even attempted to fight back or speak then he would hurt me. There was nothing that I could do.

Words could not even describe how my world was crumbling before me. That everything that I knew was suddenly being torn apart and I was forced to acknowledge the new set of rules being branded to me.

He was not gentle.

He grasped my breasts with one hand, squeezing so hard that I almost wanted to cry out. He would dip his head between the crevice of my neck and shoulder and smother then in sloppy kisses all the while his other hand bound my two arms above my head gripping my wrists like an iron grip.

I felt mortified, I felt violated and disgusted all at the same time. Time and time again I felt myself having to swallow the contents of my own stomach as I was forced to taste my father's invading tongue as it probed any and every inch of my mouth. He even took the time to lick my teeth as if he knew that I was too frightened to bite down on the offending appendage.

Meanwhile his hands would travel further and further down and before I even knew it I felt the cool air pass through my exposed crotch.

As with my breasts he too was not gentle with me virgin though I am. He pulled harshly at the hairs on my pubis before roughly shoving in a calloused digit.

I nearly screamed in my father's mouth though a harsh tug at my hair reminded me to stay quiet. So my father continued to rip into my dry vagina having no regard for the fact that he was tearing me apart.

I could feel the friction of his calloused finger as it rubbed my insides raw. For a moment his finger withdrew itself and thought that perhaps my father had had enough. How foolish of me to continue thinking that he would stop when he simply was taking a break.

I felt the finger return once again though this time it was slick with what I knew was saliva.

This time for sure I felt some contents of my stomach eject itself into my mouth. I forced myself to swallow the bile though the thought still repulsed me. How could my father do that? Why would he put his finger in his mouth after having been in such a dirty place? Didn't he know that that was where I peed from? Why would do something so gross?

As if to further degrade himself further my father soon drew his mouth away from my mouth and lowered itself down to my vagina where he then started to lap at it like a dog.

It was at this point that I finally realized that I had been crying the whole time. So disgusted was I with this turn of events that I had hadn't noticed that my cheeks were absolutely soaked with tear stains and my eyes stung.

I was so confused.

Why was my father doing this for me? Didn't he love me? Did I do something bad?

My father was a man who did everything he could to protect us, to care for us. He even took the time to start teaching me about the shrine and how to take care of it and our customers during holidays. I knew I made him proud and I loved that I did. The attention I got from him due to my making good grades. It was something I craved.

I was proud to be my father's daughter. I was proud to follow in his footsteps and continue the tradition of our family. For him to consider me worthy of such a honor. I could not tell you how happy I was.

Yet now that bright, wonderful world was being torn asunder just like my still dry crotch.

I don't understand it.

Was this the reason why father got close to me? Was this the reason why he chose to love me as a daughter that made him proud? Was he willing to throw away all the love and trust I had in him just for this?

So that he could touch me in that dirty place between my legs?

Why?

That place was nothing special. I never even really thought about it except for now that it bleeds every once in a while and I have to get something to take care of that.

Was that dirty place between my legs more important to my father than the love I had for him? The trust and adoration? The total respect in which I held for my father? Did he truly value sticking his fingers up my vagina more than all the important values which he himself had instilled in me and I in turn returned to him?

So deep was I in my shock and despair did I not notice that my father was already gone as he left me half naked sweating and breathing in fear in my very own bed.

I immediately curled myself into a small ball and rocked myself back and forth. I kept telling myself that this was a nightmare. That the monster that came into the room was not my father but only a figment of my imagination. That I would wake up right now and find all of this was nothing more than a bad dream meant to be forgotten.

Yet I never woke up.

This nightmare was, in fact, reality and suddenly I feared that if my father was willing to go this far this first time how far would go the next?

This house, this sanctuary in which was built to protect me from those outside who would want to hurt me. To believe that all this time the one whom I was in most danger was my very own father?

I didn't know whether to hate him for doing what he did to me or not. To know that he considered my love for him to be no more worthy than that place between my legs. It made me angry, it made me furious!

Most of all it made me feel worthless.

That the sum of all my achievements and dreams and hopes and love didn't even equal the value to that dirty place...to my vagina...to my fucking twat! My father was willing to not only destroy my respect and trust in him but also not even consider the consequences of his actions? Didn't the thought ever enter his head that by perhaps finger fucking me to oblivion that he might actually damage me both mentally and physically? Didn't he know or did he simply not care? For whatever reason I prayed that perhaps it was the former. To know that the man who had reared you from birth was now willing to throw away almost fifteen years of built up trust and love and not care about the consequences afterwards would simply break me completely.

And if my very own father did this to me what does that say about other men? Would their confessions of love, their interests in my hopes and dreams all be but a ruse just so that they too can have a chance at shoving their fingers up my crotch? Was that really what life was about? Was that all the good a woman was for her man? To be his personal toy which he could touch and violate whenever he wanted?

While I lay on my bed wallowing in the pit of my own self-pity I could not help but feel as if I discovered a horrible secret about the world. At once I could not help but think of my mother.

Was she too subject to this treatment by father? That on a whim she should spread her legs for him just so that he could stick his tongue and fingers in the place where she peed from as well? And what if she didn't want to? Did father hurt or threaten to hurt her as well?

Suddenly I felt very afraid for my siblings as well.

Were Kagami, Tsukasa and Matsuri all destined to grow up one day just so that they can become a man's plaything? That despite all the good grades Kagami made, the kindness in Tsukasa's nature and the fiery ambition that Matsuri proudly held would be amounted to nothing compared to the diamond shaped orifices between their legs? Was that the true destiny of a woman in today's society? That no matter how intelligent, innovating or ambitious they were in the end the only thing a man saw in them was that dirty place between her legs.

It sickened me and it filled me with doubt.

If that is the case then why bother even trying in the first place? Why bother going to school, to college and getting a job? What would it matter anyway if we are to be shackled to a man for the rest of our lives serving him in every capacity which he demands in us.

The more I think about it the more I start to feel more dreadful of my mother's position. She cooks, cleans, takes care of us and now above all that has to play the whore for our father as well? In that respect is she no better than a slave? Didn't modern society get rid of such barbaric practices? Was this the true nature of marriage after all?

If I was a boy would father had come into to this room and do what he did to me?

I already know the answer and it fills me with dread and fury to know the truth as such.

All because of this dirty place between my legs. That being in possession of that diamond shaped curse has condemned me to a life of near servitude a life where I am expectant to be pliant otherwise be branded an outcast of society.

I soon look up from my bed and stare at the ceiling. Already I could see the world in which I knew suddenly fracture before my very eyes.

Maybe, just maybe if I pray really hard some kind deity would take pity on me and assure me that this was nothing more than a terrible dream. I just can't accept the fact the very reality I live was not those times of veiled joy and happiness but a nightmare.

A true never ending nightmare.

* * *

Author's Note: Super dark, super cryptic and pretty graphic. This one-shot is all sorts of wrong but meh I'm feeling in a controversial mood today. I should be updating my other story somewhat regularly due to the holidays so expect some quick updates. Anyway hit me up and let me know what you all think!


End file.
